


Laced in Sorrow

by SgtPepper007



Series: EXO Oneshots [8]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Dancing, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Mental Breakdown, Nature, Psychological, Rain, Trainee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 03:18:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20251291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SgtPepper007/pseuds/SgtPepper007
Summary: Jongin reached the deepest state of sorrow he had experienced so far, but he wasn't alone.





	Laced in Sorrow

The rain falling gently was faintly covering the town in tiny layers of water, nurturing the vegetation that was slowly changing colours. Each drop was gentle, brushing every material it landed on with delicacy. The sky was a clear grey, progressively turning darker as the clouds bearing more intensity were approaching the area. The rain was calm, but it was only a matter of time before it would get heavier.

Jongin was watching intently the small raindrops that were softly hitting the windows of the cottage. He observed the trail of water each of them would leave while sliding down, creating their own paths that would sometimes connect to each other in the process when met with other drops. When the wind was blowing, it changed their initial direction and disrupted the pattern, making the trails that were organized at first turn messy.

The boy’s parents and siblings were chatting in the living room while planning a game they would be playing indoors, since their plans for going outside for a stroll was ruined because of the weather. Jongin wasn’t paying much attention to them as he was completely immersed into his observation, a new hobby of his for the past ten minutes.

“…in…Jongin!” His father’s voice made him jump, tearing his gaze away from the window. As he looked into his family’s direction, everyone was staring at him. He gulped and straightened his back.

“Yes?”

“Are you alright? You seem a bit out of it lately,” his mother said with a hint of concern in her voice.

Jongin shook his head, “No, I am fine mom.” He smiled, but it was nowhere reaching his eyes. 

His siblings didn’t seem to have caught it. “He was probably rejected or something while confessing,” the younger sister of the two joked.

The boy snorted, “I don’t even have a crush in the first place.” The siblings bickered a little bit until their parents stopped their childish behaviours. Soon enough, they were back on focusing on planning their game, leaving Jongin alone with his thoughts that were creeping in his mind, getting louder by the second, and worsening his mood that was already foul. While gazing at the window filled with drops of rain, he had the sudden urge to go outside, to get out of the cozy cottage that was making him feel trapped.

The weekend at the cottage was supposed to be healing. His parents and siblings, that were having too much stress piled up from work and school, had planned this bonding weekend in order for the whole family to relieve a little bit of the pressure that was taking too much control over their own personal lives and that was affecting everyone as well. It was supposed to be a trip that would refresh them and give them an opportunity to spend some quality time together, something that was complicated to achieve in Seoul with Jongin’s constant training at SM Entertainment, as well as each of their own responsibilities.

It was working. At least, it seemed to be the case for everyone in the family, except him. He would usually look forward to this kind of activity with his close family members, but this time was different. He was too deeply buried in his bad mood.

After a couple of minutes of staring at the window and hearing his parents as well as his siblings chatting excitedly about their new game that would be “so awesome” and “pleasant”, Jongin got up from his seat and took his coat out, removing his slippers to wear his sneakers instead.

“Where are you going, son?”

The boy turned around as he was about to open the door, his hand already on the handle. “Just going for a walk.”

“In this weather? It’s raining outside, Jongin. It would be best to stay inside with us, I don’t want you to catch a cold,” his mother added worryingly. But nothing could change his mind; he had to get out.

“It’s not raining hard, it will be fine. I’ll be going now.” With these words said, he turned the handle and stepped outside before his parents would whine again, the cap of his coat covering his head. As soon as he closed the door, his body slightly shivered from the contact of the chilling early October air. He already missed the warmth of the cottage but didn’t go back nonetheless. He took a deep breath and started to walk, getting farther away from the place where his family was resting.

The town was simple, “boring”, as his classmates would probably say. There wasn’t much to do and no internet connection either, but the sceneries were quite a sight. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t be able to see it because of the weather.

Jongin decided on a whim to take a path he never explored before. It was a wide trail filled with mud, the past rainy days having profusely damped the earth. As he was strolling around, the sound of the gentle rain falling on the ground as well as the trees that were by the trail created a soft music, accompanied by the sound of his footsteps when in contact with the mud. There was also a mist, which enhanced the feeling of mystery as the boy was walking ahead.

Each of his steps followed a slow rhythmic pattern. Jongin would count them, “one and two and three and four”, trying to pace the flow with the rain that was still delicate, the darker clouds still too far to change its strength. As he was walking deeper into the path, he started to move his arms to the rhythm, following the choreography he had been practicing for weeks. As he was getting more into it, he accelerated the pace until it matched the song that was constantly stuck in his head, the song he had listened to so much that it was driving him insane. And when he was reaching the middle part of the choreography, this time counting the beats loudly, he messed a series of steps and suddenly stopped moving. The boy screamed, the sound echoing through the empty path, and gripped his hair in frustration, desperation. He crouched down and put his hands on his head, cursing in the process. Once again, he couldn’t do the moves properly. The same feeling he had while failing his dance examination at the company assaulted him, making his heart clench in his chest.

Jongin screamed again, his face distorted with sadness as tears started to make their way down his face. His facial muscles all tensed up at once, paining him. The control he had forced upon himself was completely gone, his shield broken in pieces in a matter of seconds. His vision was blurry, his heart was bursting, and his body crouched even more in an attempt to hide his face on his knees.

He felt completely useless, weak and unskilled. He felt absolutely awful. It wasn’t just about failing his examination, which implied almost losing his position as a trainee in the company; it was a question of self satisfaction, of personal achievement and success, but mostly of self doubt and lack of confidence, self esteem, even.

He didn’t know what he did wrong; he didn’t understand the reasons why he kept messing up the choreography. It wasn’t particularly difficult, but he kept getting the flow incorrectly and he felt stuck whenever he danced to it. The more the choreography kept going, the more it felt mistaken, out of place. And while most of his friends got it right and perfectly, he couldn’t match their skills. No matter how many praises he got from them or the teachers, he felt like he never did enough. And it had been like this for weeks, even way before taking the exam. He spent so many sleepless nights in order to figure out what was wrong with his movements, no matter how much his body ached. He even sacrificed a few school assignments and activities with his friends in order to practice the choreography as much as possible, yet it still led to failure.

As he was crouched down, he kept asking himself questions that had no answers, as well as a few words about how bad he was, how he probably didn’t have enough skills to make it in the end. Progressively, his mood kept decreasing, reaching a whole other level of sadness, pure sorrow hitting him at once. It wasn’t only about his passion; it was about him, as not only a performer, but also as an individual. Since dancing was a burning passion, a part of him, everything was linked on a personal level. And it made the pain a hundred times worse than it should be.

Jongin closed his eyes forcefully and blinked in an attempt to control the flow of tears that were falling endlessly on his face and joining the raindrops on the ground, but to no avail. The feelings he kept bottled up were getting out, finally freed from his permanent restraint. The boy cried his heart out, sometimes silently, other times loudly when a few sobs were caught in his throat or when his crying suddenly intensified. 

He didn’t know for how long it lasted, but the rain was slowly getting agitated when he finally got up while putting his hands on his knees in order to help him, his strength having left him at the same time as his composure. When he was finally standing, he looked at his shoes covered in mud. He raised his head and looked around him, observing the trees that were now less visible because of the thick mist as well as his eyes that were still full of fresh tears that left no sign of stopping. He then looked at his feet again and impulsively removed them as well as his socks. He let his feet settle down on the wet earth and moved his toes that were slowly getting dirty.

The sensation of his bare feet on the mud was strange at first but it soon turned comfortable. It was cold, freezing even, and he had trouble moving his feet and his whole body because of it, but he ignored the cold as much as possible and settled down, the feeling being pleasant. He moved it slowly; tracing circles with his soles, letting the damped earth fully wrap itself around his feet, not leaving a spot uncovered. He also pulled down his cap, exposing his head to the rain that was now slightly stronger than earlier.

As the wind started blowing, accompanying the new rhythm of the rain, Jongin watched the branches of the trees move, going in all sorts of directions, the impact of the wind guiding it. He closed his eyes, his sobbing session still far from being over, and focused on the sensation of the wind as well as the rain hitting him and spreading his tears on his face as the breeze kept getting more and more ruffled. He completely let go of his weight and moved his head around gently, letting go of the tension in his body. He progressively imagined himself as if he was also a tree, as if he was one of them. 

He moved his body a little bit more, taking in the feeling of the wind that was not sparing him. The rain intensified, drops hitting him from all directions, as wild as the wind. As it kept getting more and more agitated, his arms moved, following the wind, as if his members were also branches being pushed and pulled by the force. Suddenly, a hard blow made his body move a whole step ahead, making him unconsciously move his members freely, without any tension. Jongin breathed in and out slowly, hot tears still sliding down his face. His movements started to be more dynamic, wider, letting the weather guide him. Soon enough, he was invaded by the illusion of him being connected to the trees around him, moving with the feeling of proximity to them, of a bond that was being created and nurtured. His body was like an extension of the earth. He felt so awful, so sad, so torn, completely miserable, but so was the nature around him. The earth and the sky were talking to him, whispering their melody in his ears with its leaves rustling, its mud splashing on his bare feet and clothes, its clouds crying with him. They were encouraging him to let go, to cry until no more tears remained. They understood him, they understood his feelings. And he understood them too.

It lasted for a while; the fierce breeze mercilessly tossing him around, and Jongin moving in every direction graciously, naturally, in contrast to the intensity of the weather. His feet would sometimes get stuck in the mud or hit a few rocks here and there, but the sensation was pure, raw. It was too pleasant to be bothering. He didn’t know if it could be considered as dancing; his movements didn’t make any sense. He was solely focused on blindly following what the weather was telling him to do, not asking any questions or thinking; just listening to its music. He felt so sad, so empty of any willpower or desire. But he felt understood, nostalgic and absolutely awful. The sensation was beautiful, his sorrow was beautiful. He had never felt that great while crying his heart out and feeling his heart being torn apart.

When the small storm finally calmed down, Jongin let his body move slowly at the same pace as the leaves and the rain that were getting calmer. When it found its initial strength, the dancer stood still for a rather long moment, his feet steady on the surface of the earth, and enjoyed his new bond with the trees around him. He opened his eyes that were now dry, and stared at the scenery before him for a few moments, letting go of the intense emotions that won him over. He eventually gained his composure and didn’t move an inch for the next minutes, aside from when his body was still following the wind’s caress, like in prayer. He then put his cap back on his head and walked in the direction of his footsteps with the intention of going to the cottage and to take a warm shower. Throughout the whole walk with his shoes and socks in hands, his body was shivering, his clothes drenched and his hair dripping. He was completely drenched from head to toes. 

When he arrived at the cottage, he was scolded by his parents and he locked himself up in his room after taking a long, warm shower. The flow of water falling on his body was completely different from the rain shower he had earlier, the emotions gained from it being the polar opposite. As he was sitting on his bed, he continued to stare outside of the window, his new found hobby being the only thing interesting him at that moment.

He didn’t feel any better; he was as depressed. But he felt lighter; his sadness didn’t feel lonely anymore. It tugged at his heart and made him feel terrible, but the sensation was different. That sadness was more bearable. He looked at the trees surrounding the area and cracked a small smile, thanking them for accompanying him in his sorrow.


End file.
